8/4/2014 What Next?
Changing the bed. Why not take the mattress cover off and wash it. After I took it off it became large and thick and puffy. Oh well. The water started bubbling in the wash machine. I was laboring stuffing the "thing" in the water. Ah ha. I called for my husband. We almost got it in together.
We both looked down at the floor at the same time and wondered why our feet were wet. Water was pouring out of the bottom
of the wash machine. "Let’s get this thing out of here into a garbage bag." When I opened the garbage bag it was too small. We carried it to our large garbage type thick container in the garage. We felt comfortable we got rid of our problem.
The garage door was open to the hall inside the house where the wash machine and water was gushing out. I turned the wash machine on spin. It did get the remaining water out of the machine. Yes? No.
We then began sharing a squiggly mop and I with the broom to sweep the water from the house area to the garage. Just like dominos I then had to sweep the water out of the garage floor. We had to pull the wash machine out of its position and clean behind it. We had a large fan in place to help dry the tile floor.
After that area was clean. I thought we might as well pull the dryer out and see if any of the water had gone under it. There was nothing wet under the dryer. Instead there was dirt, a thick lone sock and a wash rag. I can clean that up in a minute. I got the vacuum. The dirt which came up easily, so did the sock and wash cloth, making the vacuum stuck and silent. This was a mess. We both continued to have intervals of heavy laughter.
My husband was thrilled. He could now get to use his new wonder drill. He hummed. I laughed. He unscrewed the hose from the machine and got the sock and wash rag out. Gee, what a great man. I will never say, "What do you need a new drill for?"
With the hose in place he quickly found he missed attaching a small rubber circle that should have gone on first . So he had to use his new found wonder drill again. I was laughing more at this point. Poor man.
We both were laughing. This is what people do when they are eighty and eighty-five. Stuff happens! Phyllis Rehmar www.women70andover.com